


(so please just fall in love with me) This Christmas

by chicklette



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Baker Bucky Barnes, Christmas fic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, a little food porn, holiday fic, idiots to lovers, vaguely inspired by the holidate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28003548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicklette/pseuds/chicklette
Summary: Bucky comes from a family that believes a life without love isn't a life worth living. So when Bucky breaks up with his boyfriend Brock, the whole Barnes family begins to set him up with one terrible date after the other.  Enter Steve Rogers, bartender/artist in need of one (1) date for his ex's wedding.The pair form a pact: This isn't about dating or even friendship: This is about securing a fake date for the plethora of family and work events that come with the holiday season. They've set up a careful list of rules that includes no sex, and no feelings.What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 68
Kudos: 206





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my Christmas bullshit with another idiots in love fake dating au. 
> 
> This will update every other day-ish and should be about 12 chapters and if half complete. 
> 
> Much love to Jen and Tasha for being such wonderful cheerleaders, and Deisderium for taking the time to beta and being so very kind as she did. <3 <3 <3

“This is a nightmare,” Bucky says, and then twirls Becca into a spin. 

They’re at his parent’s 35th anniversary party, and Bucky’s miserable. There’s a band playing everything from Gershwin to Gaga, tables laden with some of Bucky’s favorite foods, and his folks smiling like it’s their wedding day and not their anniversary. And Bucky hates it.

“Sorry, Brother Mine,” Becca says, taking Bucky’s hand and trying to lead again. The pair of them were Lindy Hop champions when they were in the eleventh and twelfth grades, and they both still love the chance to show off a little. 

“Welcome to the rest of your life,” she breathes. “That’s what you get for being single.”

“What, you’re saying I should take Brock back?”

“God no,” Becca replies, then jumps so that Bucky can hold her up, before dropping her to slide between his legs, twisting and coming up the other side. “Everyone was thrilled to see him gone.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, breathing a sigh of relief as the song starts to end. His long, dark hair is in a french braid, and he can feel sweat starting to gather at his hairline.

“Still, you’re literally the only single Barnes now. You know what that means.”

As if on cue, Bucky’s aunt Nic approaches with a guy who looks to be maybe eighteen in tow, gesturing for Bucky’s attention. 

“Bucky!” she says, dragging the poor kid behind her. He’s reedy, pimple-faced, and is blushing a shade of crimson that’s starting to make Bucky worry.

“Bucky, this is Ronald. Ronald, this is my nephew Bucky, the one I told you about.”

Ronald thrusts his hand out and Bucky takes it, grimacing at its dampness. 

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky says. 

“Bucky here is a baker,” Aunt Nic says. 

“Oh,” Ronald says. “I’m allergic to gluten. And wheat. And all nuts.” 

“Oh,” Bucky says, taking his hand back. “That’s uh, too bad?”

“Corn and dairy too,” Ronald says. “My mom says she’s a nervous wreck with me going away to college next year, but I keep telling her a little bit of cake won’t hurt now and then.”

“Oh, uh, you’re...in high school?”

“Oh no!” Ronald replies. “I graduated in June!”

“Great,” Bucky says, eyes darting around the room for help, but Aunt Nic has wandered off, and Becca’s laughing at him as she dances with her boyfriend Dave. 

“Well, good luck with college,” Bucky says. “Would you excuse me?”

Ronald looks crestfallen as Bucky backs away, but dear God, he is a  _ child _ .

With a deep sigh, Bucky heads toward the bar, hoping a strong shot of something brown will help put him out of his misery. 

He ended things with Brock when he stopped by Brock’s apartment to surprise him and ended up walking in on him balls deep in a guy who turned out to be one of Bucky’s coworkers. 

The kicker was Brock running after him, condom still on his dick, yelling at Bucky that he wasn’t cheating, that they weren’t exclusive, and that Bucky was crazy. 

Bucky’d laughed at him and then snapped a picture for insurance: Bucky has been known to drunk dial his ex’s for booty calls, a fact that his waning self-esteem tries to forget. 

Now he’s staring down the next several months worth of family events and holidays that he’ll be regrettably single for. That means endless setups, blind dates, and every member of the Barnes family trying to hook Bucky up. 

“Kill me now,” he mutters to himself, resting his forearms on the bar. 

“If you insist,” the bartender says with his back to Bucky, then turns and grins. “Pick your poison.” 

Bucky looks up and swallows. Hard. 

The bartender is easily six feet two, broad shoulders and chest, and, Christ, ridiculous shoulder-to-waist ratio. He has deep blue eyes that are currently laughing at Bucky, and a grin that looks like trouble. 

“What’ll it be?” he asks, and Bucky just sighs. 

“Whoa,” the bartender says. “You okay?”

“Bourbon,” Bucky says, “a double. And no. I’m single.”

Raising his eyebrows, the bartender turns to pour Bucky’s drink. When he sets it in front of Bucky, he says, “Hi, single. I’m Steve.”

That grin is there again, like the bartender - Steve - is barely holding back a laugh and Bucky sighs again. 

“You wouldn’t understand. It’s kind of a family tradition to be partnered up, and my ex and I split up last month.”

“And?” 

“And now everyone here is trying to set me up. Look at this room, Steve. There are at least fifty people here and every last one is trying to set me up.”

“Everyone?”

Bucky looks over the room. “See the kid over there in the glasses and the tie-dyed jacket? That’s Ronald, and apparently my Aunt Nic thinks we’d make a great couple.”

“Hey, you never know,” Steve says. “He could grow up to be the next Bill Gates.”

“He’s just graduated highschool, and is allergic to cake. I’m a baker.”

“Ouch,” Steve says, then pours another shot for Bucky. “You really do need this.”

“Tell me about it. And it’s not just today, oh no. I’ve got my sister’s birthday party in two weeks, then Thanksgiving, Christmas...and if that kid doesn’t propose to Becca at Christmas, I’ll eat my pants. So then there’s New Year’s Eve, at least one engagement party, a wedding…” Bucky drinks his shot and staggers at the thought of it. So many set ups, and he wants none of it. “So when I say “kill me now,” he says, trailing off.

“You mean it,” Steve answers. 

“I really do.”

“Could be worse,” Steve says.

“How?” Bucky moans. “How could it be worse than a minimum of a half dozen family events where I will be set up with someone over the next four months?”

“You could be going stag to your ex-fiance’s wedding in a few weeks.”

“What?” Bucky says, jaw dropping.

The smile on Steve’s face flickers before something less sincere takes its place. “Peg met Angie about a month after she said she needed space. Now they’re getting married.”

“Jesus, you need this more than I do,” Bucky says, and slides what’s left of the drink toward Steve.

Steve shrugs, but pushes the shot back toward Bucky. “It’s fine. I mean, I know we weren’t meant to be, but yeah, I’m feeling pretty pathetic going alone.”

“Well shit,” Bucky says. “Too bad you’re not gay. I’d go with you.”

“You would?” Steve asks, cocking his head. 

“Of course. No one should have to face that alone.”

Shrugging, Steve says, “Well, I am bi.”

Bucky laughs, then gulps when he realizes Steve isn’t joking. 

“Don’t worry,” Steve says. “I won’t hold you to it.” He smiles, but it’s still missing that...that sincerity, that he had when Bucky first spoke to him.

“No,” Bucky says, sobering for a moment. “I’ll do it.”

“I couldn’t ask.”

“I’m offering. Besides, I think...I think maybe we can come to an arrangement,” he says, an idea starting to form. 

He’s just about to tell Steve his plan, when there’s shouting. 

“Someone call 911!”

“Ronald! Can you hear me?”

Turning, Bucky sees Ronald on the ground, his face is swollen and turning purple, and there’s a slice of cake in his hand. 

Bucky runs over, but Becca’s boyfriend David happens to be a doctor, and he’s already there. “Does anyone have an epi pen?”

Aunt Nic produces a small black box. “His mom gave me this before we left.”

David administers the shot and Ronald starts to turn from purple to red then back to pink, just as the ambulance arrives. 

Bucky loosens his tie and goes back to the bar. 

“I’m Bucky,” he says, holding out his hand. “And I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”


	2. The Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very much love to Deisderium for her beta work and her cheerleading. I'm so very grateful! <3

Two days later, Bucky’s at work, emptying a tray of baguettes into one of the baskets out front. It’s his last batch before he’s off for the day, and he wipes his brow with the back of his arm, happy to finally get out of the back with the ovens.

He’s been working at Brooklyn Bakery for the last six years, moving up until he finally got promoted to head baker. He loves his job, loves his work, and he’s hoping that in another couple of years, he’ll finally have the money to open his own place. Someday. 

Taking off his apron, he runs a hand through his hair and heads out front, where he spots Steve waiting for him.

This morning while he was kneading and shaping the day’s loaves, he was having second thoughts. He’s not sure his plan will work, and if it does, he’s not sure he can go through with it. It’s crazy, right? Fake-dating someone just for major holidays?

But then he remembers Ronald from the anniversary party and...he stops beyond the counter for a cup of coffee, noticing that Steve’s already got his own cup, before joining him at the little table by the window. 

“Did I keep you waiting?” Bucky asks, sitting down.

“No, I’m good. This place is great, by the way. That bacon tart was, you know,” he says, and then awkwardly puts his fingers to his mouth, “chef’s kiss.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky says, laughing. “You dork, you don’t say ‘chef’s kiss.’ You just do it!” Bucky makes the motion, kissing his two fingers and thumb, while laughing. 

“Whatever,” Steve says, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “It was good!”

“Well thank you,” Bucky says, still smiling. “I made it.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “Wow. You’re talented.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says, smiling. “So. A wedding.”

Steve looks down and scrubs the back of his neck with one hand. 

“I met Peg in undergrad. She knocked me out and the whole time we were together, I kept thinking...I can’t believe she’s with me.” He shrugs. “Something was off, I knew it. I thought proposing would make it better, but…”

Bucky pushed down the urge to take Steve’s hand, offer comfort. 

“She turned me down, said she wanted to take a break. She met Angie and...that was that. We’re still friends, but…”

“But that doesn’t mean you want to go to her wedding.”

“Well, I don’t want to go alone, that’s for sure.”

“And I don’t want to go to Becca’s birthday party alone.”

“You’re not twins?” Steve asks.

“You’d think, but no. I’ve got a year and some months on her, but we were only a year apart in school. Everyone always thinks we’re twins, though.”

“Ah.” 

The two sit in the silence for a moment before Bucky says, “So. I’ll go to your wedding if you’ll go to Becca’s party with me. If it goes okay maybe we can work something out for the holidays? I’m willing to do company Christmas parties, too.”

Steve nods slowly. “I gotta ask...you’re not interested in meeting someone for real?”

“Nope,” Bucky says. “There comes a point when you realize that the common denominator in all of your shitty relationships is you. I think it’s time to take a break. What about you? Still pining over Peg?”

Steve looks like he almost winces at that, and Bucky’s immediately sorry. “Shit, I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine,” Steve says, a soft smile pulling at his mouth. “No, I’m not pining. But, let’s just say once bitten, twice shy. I’ve had a string of bad dates and some worse sex. I’m not looking to meet anyone right now. I kind of just want to get through the holidays.”

Bucky laughs. “Ain’t we all, pal. Ain’t we all.” Taking a sip of his coffee, he studies the man across the table. He’s gorgeous, without question, and he’s the kind of gorgeous that’s just Bucky’s type. 

This could be bad. 

“Let’s set some rules,” Bucky says. 

“Like what?”

“Like no sex,” Bucky says. 

Steve grins. “Not a problem.”

“Well, fuck you, too,” Bucky replies, his feeling hurt for some reason that he can’t name.

“Relax,” Steve says, holding his hand out to stay Bucky. “It’s not...it’s nothing about you. I just...I kind of need a connection, you know. I’ve never been good at casual sex.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, mollified. “Okay. Well then, two: no catching feelings.”

“Done,” Steve says, giving Bucky an even look. 

“Whatever,” Bucky says. “I’m a catch. You’re just afraid you’ll fall in love with me.”

“Uh huh,” Steve says. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Three: if one of us has to wear a tux, the other one’s paying. I’m not dropping two hundred bucks to meet your boss’s boss at some corporate shindig.”

“Four,” Steve says. “If it’s your event, you pay the way.”

Bucky nods. “Five: No getting drunk at an event.”

“Problem?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Last boyfriend got puking drunk at the Fourth of July party. Then he tried to make out with my sister’s boyfriend.”

“And you didn’t dump him?”

“I think the fact that we’re even having this conversation proves that I have questionable taste,” Bucky says with a shrug.

With a single raised eyebrow, Steve concedes the point. 

“Safeword,” Steve says and then it’s Bucky’s turn to raise a brow. “If one of us gets into trouble in a conversation, we need a safeword.” 

Nodding, Bucky agrees. “Okay, so what should it be?”

“Something easy to remember, but ordinary, but not so ordinary that it will come up naturally.”

“Oranges. It’s perfect.”

Steve winces. “How are you going to work oranges into a conversation?”

“I don’t know!” Bucky all but whines. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Not into kink, good to know,” Steve says. 

“What? No! That’s not--” Bucky splutters.

Steve laughs and fingerguns him. “Gotcha.”

“You really are bi,” Bucky says.

“I really am. How about ‘Let’s get some ice cream later?’”

“You want to get ice cream later?”

Steve draws a deep, pained breath. 

“Sorry,” Bucky says. “That’s the perfect safeword. Anything we’re missing?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Steve says. “By the way, I’m going to need you for Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve.”

“We’ll have to split Thanksgiving,” Bucky says. “And my family celebrates Boxing Day, so we might have to spend the night.”

Nodding, Steve says, “I get the bed.”

“We’ll see,” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes.

“Okay, I think that’s it. Oh! One more thing: You gotta give a week’s notice to the other party if you’re ending the arrangement.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve says, and holds out his hand. He’s smiling, something that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes them sparkle. 

Perfect, Bucky thinks. Everyone is going to love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get this wrapped up by New Years for you all and posting more regularly. <3 Thank you all for the love for this so far. I love idiots in love. <3


	3. The Birthday Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deisderium beta'd and WOW was I sloppy this chapter. Thank you for whipping it into shape! <3

“Happy birthday!” Bucky yells the moment Becca opens the door, and grabs her into a huge hug.

“Hi Bucky,” she says, laughing, and then brightens when she sees Steve standing behind him. “And who is this?”

“This is Steve,” Bucky says. 

“Helloooo Steve,” she says, looking him up and down. “Great job!” she stage whispers.

“You started with mimosas, didn’t you?”

“At nine!” she says, grinning widely. “Then Davey brought his mom’s bloody mary mix, and someone let Nana mix the drinks.”

“You need a disco nap,” Bucky says.

Becca’s eyes go wide. “We should disco dance!”

“Or maybe get some carbs in you, birthday girl. What do you think?”

“There’s bagels in the pantry.”

“Fantastic,” Bucky says. “Do you mind?” he says to Steve. 

“Not at all. I can introduce myself.”

“Thank you,” Bucky says with a sigh. “I owe you.”

Bucky ushers a very tipsy Becca into the kitchen, setting her up on the counter top while he gets a bagel in the toaster. 

“He’s cute,” Becca says, resting her head on the cupboard behind her, eye closed. “How’d you meet?”

“He was at Mom and Dad’s anniversary party. You don’t remember him?”

“You brought a date? What about Ronald?”

Sighing, Bucky goes to the fridge for the cream cheese. “Not a date. He was the bartender.”

“Huh. Well anyway Mom’s going to be pissed. She invited Mrs. Charmichael’s son. He just got a divorce.”

“Bobby?”

“Uh huh,” she says, smacking her lips. “‘M thirsty.”

“He’s straight,” Bucky says, pulling a face. 

“Yah. Bucccckkky. Buck. Buckybuckybuckybucky. Buck.”

“What?” Bucky says, laughing. Becca is the most ridiculous drunk he’s ever met in his life. 

“I’m thirrrsty.” 

“Here,” he says, giving her a glass of water. “Now take your bagel and go upstairs and have a nap. I’ll have Dave come get you when people start to arrive.”

“You’re good brother,” she slurs, taking her bagel and glass of water and heading up the stairs.

Chuckling, Bucky puts the dirty knife in the dishwasher and heads back out to the living room to find Steve and help get things set up. 

“Honey!” his mother calls the moment she sees him. He walks toward her and she takes his arm, smiling a too bright smile. “You brought a date,” she says through gritted, smiling teeth.

“I did,” he says slightly grimacing at how tight she’s holding his arm. “Is that a problem?”

Winnie shakes off her moment of annoyance, lets go of Bucky’s arm, and gives him a real smile. “No, sweetheart. I just wish I’d known. I invited Bobby Carmichael. I thought you two might catch up.”

“Mom, Bobby Carmichael is straight. Like, super straight, just got dumped by his wife of six years straight. That wasn’t ever going to happen.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” 

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “Now, what do you need help with?” he asks, watching as Steve lets himself in from the backyard. “You’ve got two strapping young men at your disposal, put us to work!”

His mother smiles again, a real one, and has them start putting tablecloths on tables and getting the bar set up. 

“Did you put your sister to bed?” his father asks, coming over to lend a hand.

“With a bagel,” Bucky says. “By the way, Dad, this is Steve. Steve, this is my father, George Barnes.”

“Good to meet you,” George says, passing Steve a stack of paper plates. “I think Winnie wants these over by the barbecue.” 

Steve takes the plates and goes to set them up by the barbecue. 

Bucky’s dad gives him a meaningful look. “You know your mom invited the neighbor kid for you.”

“I heard,” Bucky says. “Poor Bobby.”

Bucky’s dad gives a low chuckle. “I don’t even think he’s gay.”

“He’s not.”

“So this Steve guy…”

“He’s a great guy, Dad. You’re going to love him.”

“As long as you’re happy,” George says, then gives Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze and goes into the kitchen to check on the food. 

“Sure,” Bucky says softly. “As long as I’m happy.” 

What he doesn’t ask is why he has to be with someone to be considered happy. It’s not like he’s pining after Brock. He knows he’s better off without that jerk in his life, and while he could have lived without the humiliation, it’s not like he thought he and Brock were going to be together forever anyway.

The fact is Bucky works crazy hours at the bakery, and while he definitely appreciates the regular sex of a relationship, the truth is he hasn’t ever found anyone that he really clicks with. Sure, there’d been puppy love, and a guy when he was twenty-two that he thought would be forever, but as crazy as they were about each other, it just wasn’t right. When Jason broke things off, Bucky’d been both heartbroken and relieved. I n hindsight, he realized that they were both in love with the idea of each other, of being a couple, rather than with who they actually were.

Still, according to his mother and damn near every other Barnes, you don’t have a life if you don’t have love. And while Bucky is certainly not averse to finding love, it’s not his number one priority. Getting his bakery up and running, now that is a priority. Besides, he wasn’t kidding with Steve. He really has started to wonder what exactly is wrong with him that he can’t find a decent guy.

Breathing deep, he turns to go back into the house. If this thing with Steve works out, Bucky might get a pass from his whole family from the holidays right on through to his birthday.

Speaking of…

An hour and a half later, Bucky’s grabbing his dad’s keys to go pick up Becca’s cake. He and Steve finished the last of the decorations, moved the tables from one side of the yard to the other, and back again, and peeled five dozen eggs for George’s famous wasabi deviled eggs. He hears Becca stirring upstairs just as he’s leaving, and yells out another Happy Birthday before grabbing Steve and walking out the door. 

“Wow,” Steve says. “Your family is…”

“We’re a lot. I know. Too much?” he asks, darting a glance Steve’s way. 

“No,” Steve laughs. “I think maybe just enough. Is it always that crazy?” 

“Well, we got probably forty people coming, plus whoever sees a party and drops by. It’s kind of a thing. My mom loves throwing parties, the more the merrier, you know? If you’ve ever been invited to a Barnes party, you’re kind of invited to them all. It’s really not unusual for people to just drop in if they see balloons out front.”

“Wow. Growing up, it was usually just me and mom, maybe a wayward neighbor or coworker. A crowd like this...I can’t imagine it.”

“Yeah, is it still like that? Just the two of you?”

“No, ah…” Steve pauses and breathes deep. “Mom passed a few years ago. She was a nurse and never, uh, you know, took care of herself. Now I spend holidays with my best friend’s family. They’re great, but, like yours, there’s a lot of them.”

“So what you’re saying is you come pre-trained for big families.”

“I’m saying it’s probably not as terrifying as it would be to someone else.”

“Well look, if it gets too much, feel free to wander off. You won’t be hurting my feelings if you need a breather. Just the fact that I showed up with a date is going to buy me a lot of peace and quiet. So thank you.”

“Eh, you’ve still got a wedding to go to,” Steve reminds him. “By the way, do you have a suit?”

“You see how my mom entertains. I have several.”

“Oh, well, great,” Steve says. 

They finish the trip to the bakery in companionable silence, and Steve waits with the car when Bucky double parks. 

A few minutes later he’s piling a host of boxes and bags and tools into the back of the SUV, and then coming around to the front, telling Steve to budge over. 

“Thank god,” Steve says, crab crawling over the center console to the passenger seat. “I didn’t know what I was going to do if a cop came.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, uh,” Steve mumbles, cheeks pinking. “Idon’tdrive.”

“What was that?”

“I, uh, I don’t drive.”

“Like, you don’t like to or you don’t know how?”

“Uhm, both?”

“That’s. Uh, a choice. That’s a choice.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve says, looking offended. 

“I mean, hey, I guess if it works for you…” Bucky’s surprised, but not shocked. He knows a lot of people that don’t have cars, and, he supposes, a few that never learned to drive. 

Steve shrugs. “I was born and raised in Brooklyn, stayed here for school. Just never seemed like I’d need to learn, you know?”

“Sure,” Bucky says. “Well if you ever need a teacher…”

“Thanks,” Steve says, with a little laugh. 

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, just...I think you’re nicer than probably my last two relationships combined.”

“Ouch.” 

“Yeah. At least I don’t have to worry about you coming on to my best friend’s sister.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, laughing. “Definitely not. Last guy I was with gave me the key to his apartment and then was shocked when I used it and found him balls deep in one of my coworkers.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Cue surprised Pikachu face. At least the coworker was fired.”

“Peggy tried to set me up with her niece.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, after we split, she said she thought Sharon and I had a lot in common and we should date. Spoiler: We did not. She called last weekend to say she’s seating us at the same table. I was so happy to tell her I was bringing a date.”

“Pal, it sounds like we came along at exactly the right time for each other.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, and Bucky can hear the smile in his voice. “It really does.”

When they get back to Bucky’s parent’s place, Becca is starting to rouse, and Bucky goes upstairs to check on her.

“Hey birthday girl, how’re you feeling?”

“Bleh,” she sticks her tongue out. “Fine, just hadn’t planned on being trashed before lunch.”

Bucky chuckles and sits on the bed next to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just.”

Bucky waits in the silence, knowing that she’ll say what she means eventually. 

“I think Dave’s going to propose.”

“I...think so too. How do you feel about that?”

“Terrified,” she says says, eyes on her lap. “I love him, I love him so much. He’s my best friend.”

“But?”

“But...I don’t want this to be my life.”

“What this?”

“This,” she says, gesturing to her childhood bedroom. “At least not yet. I’m not ready to turn into Mom. I mean, you know I love her, but….” She grimaces.

Bucky knows what she means. Their parents have an Americana love story. Met in college, dated, both had careers until Bucky was born, then Winnie became a stay at home mom and volunteer supreme. Now she has a small side business planning parties and weddings, and they have a little vacation cabin upstate. They had the two kids, the dog (Buster died two years ago, and George hasn’t had the heart to get a new dog yet), the picket fence. 

It’s perfect, but Becca is right, Bucky can’t see her (or himself for that matter) fitting into that mold.

“So don’t,” he says. “There’s no law that you have to copy our parents. You’re only 26. You don’t even have to think about kids yet, or not at all if you don’t want ‘em. Just...talk to Davey and see what he says. Just because you get married doesn’t mean you have to become a Stepford wife.”

“But what if that’s what he wants?”

“Becks, I can’t imagine a world where Davey’s not on board with whatever it is you want. Just talk to him.”

“Ugh. I hate how reasonable and logical you are.”

“No you don’t.” Bucky says, putting his arm around Becca’s shoulders.

“No. I don’t,” she says with a pout in her voice. “By the way, bravo on Steve. He is hot!”

“Yeah, he’s great,” Bucky says, demurring.

“Oh, what is this?” Becca asks, smelling blood in the water. 

“What’s what?”

“Uh huh,” she says, turning to look at him. “Okay, what gives?”

“Nothing,” Bucky says, but gets up to pace. Damn Rebecca Barnes and her uncanny ability to know when Bucky is lying. 

“Buckyyyyyy,” she whines.

“Oh god, not the whining.”

“Buuuuuccccccckkyyyyyyy.”

Bucky sighs. He knew this would happen. 

“You have to promise this stays between us.”

“What?”

“Promise. The most excellent promise you can make. Swear as my only sister on our lives.”

Becca starts laughing at the movie quote, the oath going back to their childhoods. “I swear it. You have absolute power.”

“Steve’s not really my date,” Bucky says, making a face.

“What?” Becca asks, looking confused.

“He’s...he’s my holidate. My date for these things so that Mom and the aunts will get off my back.”

“Your holidate. But this isn’t a holiday.”

“I know, but it’s like...we’re just dating each other for social things where you need a plus one, or where, you know, people will try to set you up.”

“A holi-date,” she says, tasting the word. “Mom’s gonna kill you.”

“Mom’s never going to know, right?” Bucky says, menace in his voice.

“I mean, she’ll figure it out, you know her, but I promise not to tell.”

Sighing, Bucky says, “That’s all I can ask.”

“So...are you paying him?” Becca asks. “Is he, like, for hire? Because my friend Steph could totally use--”

“I’m not paying him. We’re trading off. I’m going to a wedding next weekend, and then we’re going to trade holiday dinners. So, you know, be nice. He’s going to be around a while.”

Raising her eyebrows, Becca says, “Whatever works, I guess. Mom’s still gonna kill you when she figures it out, and you know Mom always figures it out.”

“I’ll...deal with that when the time comes,” Bucky says. “Now get ready. Your guests will be here soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, getting out of bed and running a hand through her hair. “Hey, thanks, Bucky. I really needed to talk to you.”

“Becs,” he says, and pulls her into a tight hug. “I love you. Happy birthday.”

“Love you, too.”

Bucky leaves her to it and goes back downstairs, only to find Steve with a small child hanging from each arm. One of them lets go, and the other twists and starts climbing up Steve’s torso, until he grabs her and tickles her, eventually letting the her down, only to have her run right back up to him again. 

“Carly,” Bucky calls, getting the little girl’s attention. “That’s enough.”

Carly, his cousin’s kid, shrugs at him and runs off to find the other kids to play.

“Sorry about that,” Bucky says. “I didn’t mean to abandon you. I just needed to check on Becca.”

“She okay?” Steve asks, a little crease forming between his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “I’ll tell you later.” 

Four hours later, they’ve both had their fill of barbecue smoked chicken, sweet corn, and what Bucky suspects is the last of the year’s good watermelon, and while he can’t swear to it, he’s pretty sure Steve’s eaten his weight in deviled eggs. 

He brings out the cake, a three-tiered strawberry cake with strawberry buttercream inside and whipped cream frosting. It’s light and fresh, and it’s Becca’s favorite. It’s topped with a mountain of whipped cream, glazed berries, and ruffled white chocolate shavings, adding height and drama to the otherwise simple cake. 

Everyone claps and even though Bucky knew it was coming, he’s still flushing at the attention. The truth is he loves this part. One of the reasons that baking is so satisfying to him is the reaction he gets when people see his food, and when they taste it. It’s a tangible connection to his work, and he loves it. 

It’s not until later, when they’re walking to the subway, each laden down with enough leftovers for the rest of the week, that Steve comments on the cake.

“I mean, I knew you were a baker, but Bucky, that cake was phenomenal.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says. “It’s...thank you.”

“How did you get into baking? I mean, did you always know?”

And so Bucky tells him, about growing up and helping his grandmother with the holiday baking, then getting attention for the recipes that he’d developed on his own, getting jobs at various bakeries, and about his dream of opening his own bakery.

“I mean, I’ll be there,” Steve says. “Just tell me when and where. It’s rare to find a cake that looks that good  _ and _ tastes that good.”

“Ah, a cake aficionado,” Bucky teases.

“More like a sugar junkie,” Steve says, and Bucky stops to look him up and down.

“Really?” he asks, eyeing Steve’s obvious muscles.

“I...had a lot of health issues growing up. I was allergic to practically everything, and once I grew out of it, I kind of started making up for lost time.”

“You’re okay now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, scrubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Long story, but yeah.”

“Good,” Bucky says. 

He hates the idea of any kid missing out on traditional childhood things, but for whatever reason, Steve being vulnerable isn’t something Bucky likes to think about. Maybe it’s because he’s so big and obviously strong. 

But, if Steve says he’s okay, Bucky’s going to trust him on that. 

“So,” Steve says, watching the signs for the subway. “Today went okay?” There’s a hint of nervousness in his voice and Bucky’s surprised. 

“Today went great,” he says, emphatically. “Was it okay for you?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I actually kind of liked it.”

“You’re insane, but I’ll take it.”

Smiling, Steve looks down, hiding a small flush across the tops of his cheeks. “So, I’ll text you the details about the wedding this week. It’s Saturday at four, in the city, so if you want to grab an uber I’ll pay.”

“Up to you,” Bucky says. “We should touch base before though; I don’t really know much about you. We’re not going to convince anyone if all I know about you is that you’re a bartender who loves cake.”

“Artist,” Steve says, smiling and walking backward as his train pulls in. “I’m an artist. Text me.”

.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been an awfully hard year for so many of us. <3 to you and yours for keeping on through it all. You're surviving in a pandemic. You're doing amazing. <3


End file.
